


Friday is Pizza Night

by Ghost_Writing



Series: Stardew Valley One Shots and Drabbles [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, Fluff, Fridays are for Pizza, Hanahaki Disease, Light Angst, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Tags Are Hard, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_Writing/pseuds/Ghost_Writing
Summary: You awoke with a yawn, stretching your arms wide as you sit up on your decently large queen-sized bed. You glance around the room and it’s the same room you’ve woken up to for the past five years if you ignore the many renovations that have been done that is.You’re about to get up and dress for the day when you get that uncomfortable feeling in your lungs. Like you’re going to throw-up and cough your lungs out at the same time. Quickly, you scramble for the garbage can at the side of your bed and bow your head to it.
Relationships: Shane/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Shane/Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: Stardew Valley One Shots and Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708618
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81





	Friday is Pizza Night

You awoke with a yawn, stretching your arms wide as you sit up on your decently large queen-sized bed. You glance around the room and it’s the same room you’ve woken up to for the past five years if you ignore the many renovations that have been done that is. 

You’re about to get up and dress for the day when you get that uncomfortable feeling in your lungs. Like you’re going to throw-up and cough your lungs out at the same time. Quickly, you scramble for the garbage can at the side of your bed and bow your head to it.

It takes all of five seconds for the coughing fit to hit you. You screw your eyes shut as tight as you can and just pray for it to be quick.

It’s longer than last time. Each time is always longer than last time and you’re left sitting there for three minutes, coughing up blood and the most gorgeous, unnatural, blue, rose petals. 

Tears drip down your cheeks as you stare at the can filled with more than a few fully formed flowers and loose petals, covered in dark red blood.

Why did this have to happen…?

You grab the tissues from the nightstand and clean your face up a bit before heading to the bathroom and brushing your teeth so you won’t taste blood during breakfast. 

After finishing your breakfast, brushing your teeth again and taking out the trash, you’re ready to start your day.

It’s a simple routine that feels monotonous by now. 

Get the eggs from the chickens, make sure they’re fed and loved, milk the cows and the goat, make sure all the barn animals get pets and love, water the crops and collect any produce. 

Then pick the fruit trees and water the greenhouse plants. 

Make sure you don’t forget to put your product in the box for Lewis to sell for you.

Simple enough.

But as you go about your daily tasks, you find your mind going back to the dark-haired man in blue shorts and a ripped hoodie. Imagining his perfect smile and the way he makes sure to take care of his god-daughter.

You’ve tried in the past to block him out. To think of anything, or anyone, else. But it’s never worked. Your mind always came back to him.

So, you accepted it. You let it happen. You knew you had no chance at him loving you back, so you resigned yourself to bringing him pizza’s on Friday, going to Gridball games with him on Saturday and Sunday, and watching Jas on Wednesdays when he went into town to see his therapist.

Today was Friday. So by the time you finished all your chores, had a shower, made sure to clean the blood off of your face and brush your teeth so they’re not stained red… again, you’re ready to leave your house.

You throw on a bomber jacket and a pair of high-waisted blue jeans, as well as a grey t-shirt with a prism on it. You throw your boots back on and grab your wallet off the counter, making sure to lock your house behind you. You check to make sure Buttercup, your german shepherd, was okay and had enough water before you made your way into town.

It was almost seven o’clock when you reached the Stardrop Saloon. You said hello to Elliot while he waited for Leah, bought Sam, Sebastian and Abagail some sodas for the night, and tipped Emily a little extra money. Then you made your way back to Gus who was already packing up a pizza for you. 

“Hey Gus,” You say with a smile, fishing for your wallet.

“Oh stop that, I run this saloon. Tonights on me,” Gus tells you, putting a few pepper poppers into a container and on top of the pizza box, as well as a couple of sodas.

“I can pay, I have enough money,” You reassure him, taking your wallet out and getting out a fifty.

“No. That’s final. You’ve already been paid for,” Gus says, putting the sodas and pepper poppers into a plastic bag.

“What? By who? Did Shane already come by and pay? I told him not too!” You ask frantically, your brow furrowing.

“Shane didn’t pay. I make sure he doesn’t pay for Friday’s. This was a gift from the town. Everyone pitched in a few bucks,” Gus explains, putting a few cookies in the bag as well.

“Why?” Is all you ask as your mind whirs in confusion.

Gus leans close and takes your hand, like a father taking his child’s hand.  
“You make him happy. We can all see it. It’s been such a long time since he’s been this happy. He hasn’t relapsed for three years. We figured that deserves a reward,” Gus tells you, a genuine smile across his lips.

In your chest, you can feel your heart beating a little faster.  
“Thank you. Please tell the others ‘thank you’ for me. It’s already seven, I don’t want to keep him waiting,” You say as Gus let’s go of your hand.

“I will. Have a goodnight,” Gus nods, putting a few forks in the bag for you.  
“Goodnight,” You say, taking the bag and the pizza box and walking out of the saloon.

You take a deep breath and head in the direction of Marnie’s farm. The two of you have a meeting spot, the same spot you found Shane nearly three years ago, plastered out of his mind and on the verge of suicide.

It’s a cynical joke that the two of you love to share. Sitting at the edge of the cliff and watching the ocean on nice days. When it rains or during the winter you two usually stay at your farm. But today is a clear summer’s night.

Your legs move quicker as you travel the familiar trail. When you’re close to the spot, you hear loud coughing.

A wave of panic crashes into you and you break in a dead sprint towards the cliff. 

Then your best friend comes into view. He’s sitting on a large picnic blanket (a gift from Marnie), bending over the cliff slightly. In the dark of the night, you can see a dark liquid dripping from his lips.

“SHANE!!” You call out without thinking and he whips around with wide eyes to stare at you.

“NO! I’M FINE!! JUST STAY THERE!” He shouts to you, putting his hand out. There’s a weak rasp to his voice and the shout comes out squeaky and pained before he turns back to coughing again.

You ignore him, setting the food down on the blanket and taking out some tissues from your pocket. You crouch down next to him and rub his back, offering him one of the tissues to wipe his mouth. 

He takes it in defeat and slumps against you as he coughs for the last time, small poppy petals fall from his lips. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” You mumble absentmindedly as you rubbed his back up and down slowly.

Once it passes and he’s cleaned his mouth, you break apart.

“I brought food,” you say gingerly, gesturing towards the bag and the pizza box.

“Thank god, I’m starving. You got any soda in there?” he asks, trying to play it off like nothing. 

“Yeah, Gus gave us some extra stuff for tonight. Didn’t even charge me, something about the town paying for it all,” You mumble, passing him a soda as you place the food between the two of you on the blanket.

“Bullshit. I know you paid for it all,” Shane replies, chugging the soda while staring up at the stars of the night sky.

“No, I’m serious. I thought it was a joke too, but the town paid for it as a thank you gift and congrats on being three years sober,” you explain.

“Huh,” is all he replies with, shrugging his shoulders and picking up a slice of the pizza. “Well, what do ya know…”

“Yeah,” you mumble, taking your own slice.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you both try and ignore the recent events. Neither wants to bring it up, out of fear of what the other will say. Shane clicks on the lantern that was hanging in the tree above the picnic blanket, lightning up the night in soft light.

Out of sight of Shane, you rub your fingers over a clean poppy petal. You wiped it off carefully on a tissue, and it rests in your hand.

You always did love poppies. 

Half the pizza is almost gone after thirty minutes and the pepper poppers only have a few left in the container. Shane’s found the cookies and has already devoured a double chocolate-chip one, offering you one as well. 

You don’t want to say it, but the tenseness of not talking is getting to you. So you speak your mind.

“So who’s the lucky girl?” you ask and he nearly chokes on his third soda.

“W-what do you mean?” he manages to get out in response.

“Shane. We’ve been friends for years. I know that wasn’t just a coughing fit,” you say, a harshness to your tone, trying to avoid the actual name.

He waits for a while.   
“... I can’t tell you.”

You turn to look at him and he’s staring at his socks, clutching the soda can.

“Why not? I won’t judge you,” you assure him, finishing your final slice of pizza.

“What if… what if they weren’t a girl?” Shane questions, clutching his soda tighter.

“That’d be fine too. I’m not going to judge you for being gay. That’d be shitty. I’d be glad to have a friend who was also queer,” You say, resting your hand on his and feel his grip loosen slightly around the can.  
“You’d hate me…” he mutters, staring at your hand on his. You can see how heavy his heart is beating in his chest.

“Shane. I could never hate you,” You swear to him, squeezing your hand around his. “Whoever it is, you can tell me. We’ll still be friends.”

“Promise?” he looks at you with big eyes, tears forming in the corners.

“Promise.” You nod, squeezing his hand a bit.

It happens in a blur. He sets his drink down on the grass next to him and reaches for your jaw, cupping it in his palm before pressing his lips together, slightly turning his body on the blanket.

He’s so warm, so welcoming… you’ve waited too long for this. Yet, you sit there, shocked, eyes wide, like if you’d close them, this would disappear. 

He pulls back instantly, moving far from you and letting you go.  
“Sorry… I shouldn’t have done that… I just… I had to know what it felt like, I had to know because I know I’ll never get that chance again,” he apologizes, staring at the ground and pulling his knees up to his chest, resting his arms and head on top of them.

You move across the blanket to him, sitting the opposite direction than he is so that you’re facing each other. There’s no distance between the two of you as you rest your hand on the side of his jaw and lift his face up to meet yours.

This time, you close your eyes and lean into him, pressing the two of your lips together carefully. You can feel him lean into you, wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling you closer. One of his hands sneaks up and plays with your hair, gently combing through the soft locks. You put your other arm around him, pulling him closer to you.

Then he pulls back again, looking you in the eyes, and you notice the small tears rolling down his cheeks.  
“I’m sorry, are you sure you want to-”

You press your lips back to his, shutting him up completely. You’ve waited far too long for this to happen for him to question it just yet. You wipe his tears away with one hand while you’re kissing him and just feel him melt into you. 

You rest your arms around his neck and lean backwards, pulling him down so he’s on top of you on the blanket, the stars above you as you forget to breathe.

It feels like an eternity until you both pull apart for air.

When he does, he rests his head on your chest, and you can see how the lantern light illuminates his face just right. The shine of his hair and the light blue of his sweater against your light-brown bomber jacket.

It almost feels unreal.

“Do you…?” Shane whispers, his sentence trailing off.

“I do,” you reply, kissing his forehead.

“How long…?” 

“Since the time we sat on the dock together,” you whisper, running your hand through his hair.

“I wish you told me sooner,” he mumbles into your jacket.

“Me too… but that was worth the wait,” you respond as he sits up, straddling your lap.

“Can I… can I sleep at your place tonight? Please?” he asks, flushing and staring at the blanket next to you.

“Of course. I don’t want you waking Jas,” you agree, sitting up as well and hugging him tightly.

He hugs you back, his arms clinging to you like if he let go, you’d disappear.

The two of you pack up the rest of the food, the blanket and turn off the lantern. You carefully walk through the quiet of the night past the ranch and towards your farm. Shane’s standing close to you, his hand wrapped in yours as you make light conversation. Even in the dark of night, you can see the bright smile on his face. 

You reach your home after a half-hour of walking and unlock the door, letting Buttercup inside as well. As you put the food away in the fridge, Shane plays with Buttercup, petting her happily.

His smile’s brighter than you’ve ever seen it.

The two of you get ready for bed in each other’s company. You find yourself watching him as he discards his hoodie, socks and shorts, leaving him in dark blue boxer briefs with chickens scattered across them and his green shirt. You’re already in red-plaid boxers and brushing your teeth as he sits on your bed awkwardly.

You finish brushing your teeth and go over to him. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? You’re shirts covered in blood. You can possibly think you can sleep in that,” you question him, standing in front of him.

“I just… I don’t look good without my shirt on. You’ll think I’m gross,” he mumbles, staring at the ground, shoulders slumped.

You crouch down to his eye level.  
“You are not gross. You are perfect,” you reassure him.

The look his face shows disbelief but he doesn’t reply. You carefully stand back up and take his shirt off for him.

He’s completely wrong. You remember what he was like when he passed out all those years ago, you had helped Harvey to examine him. This is far from it. He’s got a slight bit of chub to his frame, but his arms are stronger than before. Yeah, he still has a dad-bod but it’s not what he says.

“Shane. You’re completely wrong,” you tell him, tossing his shirt into the laundry bin. 

He blinks at you.  
“I don’t know, I think you’ve gone blind,” he teases, a little smile returning to his face.

“Nah, you’re the blind one here,” you retort, kissing him softly. “Now come on, it’s nearly two, we both have to be up early tomorrow if we’re gonna catch that Gridball game.”

“Shit, I forgot!”


End file.
